crying out to the men standing by: "Lay
aloft there, and see how soon you can send down those royal yards!"

Matthews, who was trying all he could to deserve his promotion and had
remained up after the rest of his watch had gone below, helped Tom
Jerrold and me in sending down ours; and, when up aloft, the most active
topman I noticed was Joe Fergusson, the bricklayer. As "Old Jock" with
his shrewd seaman's eyes had anticipated, he had developed into a smart
sailor, considering the short time he was learning, being now quicker
than some of those who had been to sea for years and were thought good
hands.

On the present occasion he ran us a rare race with the main-royal yard,
we getting the mizzen spar below but a second or two in advance of his
party.

After this the topgallant yards were sent down likewise on deck and the
masts struck, "all hands" being called to get the job done as soon as
possible. Indeed this was vitally necessary, for the storm was
increasing in force every moment, and our topsails had to be reefed
immediately the royal yards were down and the topgallants lowered.

Getting rid of all this top hamper, however, made the ship ride all the
easier over the heavy waves that met her bows full butt; and, now, she
did not roll half as much as she had done while she had all those spars
up, although what she lost in this respect she made up for in pitching--
diving down as the big seas rolled under her keel and lifted up her
stern as if she were about paying a visit to the depths below, and then
raising her bowsprit the next instant so high in the air that it looked
as if she were trying to poke a hole in the sky with it!

Shortly before "six bells" the gale blew so fiercely that it was as much
as we could do to stand on the poop; and when, presently, Mr Mackay
gave the order for us to take in the mizzen-topsail, we had to wait
between the gusts to get up aloft, for the pressure of the wind
flattened us against the rigging as if we had been "spread-eagled,"
making it impossible to move for the moment.

But sailors mustn't be daunted by anything to be "worth their salt;" so,
watching an opportunity, we climbed up by degrees to the top and then on
to the upper rigging until we gained the cross-trees, being all the
while pretty well lashed by the gale. Our eyes were blinded, and our
faces all made sore and smarting by it, I can tell you, while we were
well out of breath by the time we had got so far.